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Kurapika couldn’t help but find his neighbor extremely annoying. Sure, he’d never talked to him, but he was still able to irritate Kurapika.
Frankly, Kurapika didn’t mind the music itself- his neighbor didn’t have a bad taste in music, which made it slightly easier to bear. That didn’t, however, warrant his neighbor blasting his music at full volume; you could feel the pounding of the bass from across the street, for God’s sake!
But his neighbor wasn’t breaking the rules, so any of Kurapika’s complaints fell on the deaf ears of the landlords.
One day, however, Kurapika had had enough. He was excited for Christmas, even though he didn’t have anyone to spend it with, but there was no way that Kurapika could stand Mariah Carey's All I Want For Christmas Is You one more time.
Kurapika knocked on his neighbors' door, though he couldn’t hear it over the pounding of the bass. Surprisingly, almost immediately after he knocked, the music was turned down drastically, and Kurapika could hear the footsteps approaching the door.
The door was opened just enough for a head to poke through, and Kurapika was greeted by the face of a man who looked like he hadn’t slept in a month. His eyes were dark and sunken in, but surprisingly wide and full of energy.
“I don’t think that I could listen to All I Want For Christmas Is You one more time. Would it be possible for you to turn it down? Or perhaps play more than one song on repeat?” Kurapika said before the other man could get in a single word.
“Do you have a problem with my queen Mariah Carey?” he replied without hesitation. Kurapika felt an odd sting on his upper arm as his neighbor said this. He put that to the back of his mind, however; there was no way that it had any correlation with the conversation he was having.
Kurapika took a breath, then said, “I have no problem with Mariah Carey, I simply have no interest in listening to one of her songs on repeat for the rest of the holiday season.”
The man squinted his eyes, then sighed, “Fine.”
“Thank you,” Kurapika replied, then turned towards the door to his own apartment.
“Wait,” the man said, stepping out of his doorway. He was wearing an odd ensemble of a full suit top, including a tie and a properly folded collar, red and black plaid pyjama pants, and a pair of slippers made to look like elf shoes, bells and all. Kurapika couldn’t help but stare, and the man seemed to notice.
Eventually, Kurapika was able to get out a polite, “Yes?”
“You live next door right?” the man asked, “I don’t even know your name!”
“Kurapika,” he replied.
The man smiled, “Leorio.”
“Well, Leorio, thank you for listening to my complaint.”
“Of course,” Leorio said, scowling; it seemed more playful than angry, however, and Kurapika couldn’t help but smile.
They said goodbye and retreated to their respective apartments. It was definitely the strangest interaction he had had since he moved into his apartment, but Kurapika couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that something was different after that.
After all, the stinging feeling in his arm was still there.
* * * * *
Kurapika didn’t think that he’d be knocking on his neighbors' door again that day, but he found himself front of Leorio’s apartment once again.
He had heard about soulmate marks; he’d always had his parents tell the story of theirs, and most people Kurapika had met had them already. It’s always the first sentence that your soulmate says to you, his parents would say, so make sure you pay attention to what people say when you meet them.
How will I know? It can’t be immediate, can it? Kurapika remembered asking his parents one night.
You’ll know, I promise, his mother said back.
And her words stuck with him, even after her passing. So when an odd but otherwise familiar phrase appeared in dark cursive writing around his upper arm, his heart nearly stopped.
Kurapika knocked on the door, trying to swallow whatever he was feeling; he couldn’t hide the shaking of his hands, however, or the slight quiver of his upper lip.
When the door opened, Leorio looked pleasantly surprised. Without a word, he opened the door all the way and let Kurapika in. It was almost awkward, but somehow the room felt… happy.
Leorio led Kurapika into the kitchen and motioned to a stool that was pushed against his counter. Kurapika sat down, and Leorio motioned towards a full pot of coffee. Shaking his head, Kurapika folded his hands on his lap. He swallowed the strange feeling once again.
“If you’re here about what I think you’re here about,” Leorio started, leaning against the countertop, “then I think we have a lot to talk about.”
Kurapika cleared his throat, “What do you think I’m here for?”
Without hesitation, Leorio took off his shirt. Kurapika couldn’t stop heat from rising to his cheeks and found himself looking at the ground beside him. When Leorio cleared his throat, however, Kurapika worked up enough courage to look at him.
Leorio wasn’t skinny, but he definitely wasn’t in amazing shape. It seemed as if he used to be a regular at the gym, but had to give it up for time’s sake- he was most likely in college, which would explain the textbooks and papers strewn through the room.
But Kurapika’s eyes were focused on the bold, cursive writing wrapped around Leorio’s arm.
“I’m assuming that this is what you wanted to talk about?”
Kurapika nodded slowly, pulling the arm of his shirt up to show his matching tattoo.
Or, almost matching.
The tension in the air was cut by Leorio’s laughter; his laugh was hearty and sweet, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Kurapika found himself laughing as well, though he didn’t exactly know why.
“Oh man, I’m so sorry about that!”
“About what?”
Looking down at the words on his arm, Kurapika realized why Leorio was laughing so hard; the phrase Do you have a problem with my queen Mariah Carey? was now permanently tattooed on his arm. It didn’t even dawn on Kurapika when he first saw it that that would be funny.
Now that Leorio found it funny, however, Kurapika couldn’t help but find it funny as well.
“I suppose that makes us soulmates, huh?” Leorio said, a smile on his face.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“What does that mean for us?”
Kurapika had to think for a moment before replying, “I think we should still take it slow, even though we’re soulmates.”
“I suppose…” Leorio said. He pulled on his shirt, then turned to Kurapika, “Are you free on Friday evening?”
Christmas Eve, Kurapika thought.
“Yes, I am.”
“Would you like to come over for the evening? Obviously, we can’t do much gift-giving, but I’ve been told that I make a mean mac and cheese.”
Kurapika couldn’t help but laugh, “That sounds great.”
He couldn’t remember the last time that he felt this excited for Christmas.